Wishmaker

[17:29] Katrin blinks and squints through the dark, trying to make sense of just what in the gods' names she's seeing.
(Katrin)
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[17:31] {Item} You picked up Sinka..
[17:33] It's hard to see, through all the smoke- Likely harder given its the sheer of night. An eruption of smog, colored black and gray, that ebbs from a form not unlike her own. A drakanite, of some sort...? Though it stands nude, covered entirely with metallic expulsions that cling to its form and operate as armor.

Lanky, gangly arms spiral too far to be considered neutral, and end in jagged, razor-like claws that are comprised of the same metal as the rest covering him. Likewise, it's legs repeat the pattern, and talons end by digging deep into the dirt where it stood.

Each shift of its body causes a hundred steel chains, embedded into its flesh via hooks and jagged rings, to make a cacophony of noise that melds into the inherent static that surrounds him. A roll of its shoulder, and one of those chains hefts upwards, just to land back into the dirt with a resounding thud, showcasing just how heavy each might be.

Slowly, it's gaze pulls down- Had it been stargazing? Black sclera, filled with a dark blue pupil, lands upon Katrin's form, aimed to fixate upon her eyes entirely. It does not move, and instead, tilts its head curiously to the side.. Letting the weight of its horns let gravity do most of the work for it.

When it speaks, it isn't through a voice- In fact, it's mouth appears to be long since welded over with the metals that cover its body, Instead, its within the static that it produces, filtered into the word in a strange sense of telepathy.

"Come to make a wish? Or perhaps.. You merely want to gaze at the stars with me...?"
(Wishmaker)
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[17:39] The artificer's bright, golden eyes stare right back with their slit pupils. A clear marker of her heritage, perhaps one she shared with this stranger however shallow her own might be, and yet...

No. Something doesn't seem to fit the bill here. As a worker of metal, she is accustomed to the ring of steel. Yet all the metal on the creature's person seems just as strange and nebulous as his origin.

She tilts her head and looks up at the stars, the light reflected in her eyes; the creature's physical appearance doesn't seem to bother her outwardly, though there's a twinge as the static hits her mind and she hears its voice.

"Didn't expect people out here, honestly. Usually pretty quiet out here in the wilds. Don't usually much catch folks watching the stars these days." Katrin comes back to earth, so to speak, and turns sights back to the strange figure.

"Kay. Artificer. Don't suppose you're needing work done? Can't say I make a habit of wishing on stars much these days."
(Katrin)
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[17:44] "Wish. Maker."

It's the response given after a few moments of quiet silence, where even the white noise that it produces doesn't fill the void. A singular clawed hand raises upwards, gently tapping, rasping, quietly, against the mask of metal that covers its face. It barely makes a noise, showcasing a strange, almost alien gentleness that defies the creature's very nature..

..Or was it all merely a guise?

"Out here, away from the torchlights of the City of Lions, away from the industrialized streetlamps of the City of Rust, one may see the stars better than anywhere else."

The hand that found itself against its face instead pulls upwards yet again, grasping around one of the spiraling horns that sat atop its head. Its gaze raises upwards, back towards the inky abyss, twinkling with a thousand individual stars.

The only light, aside from the moon, that would be offered to either of the two.

"Many wish upon stars, you know." It's in direct response to the last thing she said, of course. "They aspire to power, and greatness, and wealth. Tangible benefits, so they pray to their false Gods and their stars, and make wishes that are within their grasp. But they are too afeared to simply grasp it."

It grows quiet, solemn, for a moment. It's eyes, half narrowed, do not break its stare straight upwards. It does not blink, and if Katrin were to look close, it does not appear to be breathing, either. It's not natural, and the stench of Occultism, the ebb of something worse is very apparent.

"..Why make a wish to something that will not hear you out? The Gods are not listening. Not to everyone. A sad, sad tale."
(Wishmaker)
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[17:50] "Wishmaker. That...your name, I'm guessin'?"

She draws closer, against better judgement, getting more details as to the creature's alien nature.

"Yeah...yeah. I know. And I used to be one of 'em. Believe me. I already know there's not jackshit up there listening, mister Wishmaker." The reply is no doubt bitter.

It's appearance, its mouth welded shut, its lack of breath- and that feeling, that miasma it exudes. There's a noticeable shiver that passes through her.

It's quite unlike anything else she's trucked with as of yet. Yet not terribly unlike those some of those of her blood had dealt with in ages gone by. Her gaze draws up again while keeping the Wishmaker in her periphery.
(Katrin)
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[17:54] It finally pulls its gaze from the heavens, instead aimed to look upon Katrin, just as Katrin looked over it. A slow shift, it begins to rise itself to its full height- Just over eight feet tall. Humanoid, entirely, but abjectly wrong.

It's as if someone had created an effigy of what they believed a human, or a drakanite, may have looked like- If they'd never seen one before.

"You are correct. Wishmaker- It is both my name, and my title. My profession."

It takes a single, lumbering step forwards to replicate hers, a talon covered in metal razors slamming into the ground just by manner of motion. It is not intended to be outright threatening, and yet it very likely was. The smoke that ebbs from its form twists and enshrouds, encircling about the area.

Outright, entirely wrong- But the Wishmaker speaks in a voice that's almost soothing, and calming. A voice that a parent would offer to a child, intent on stopping them from crying.

"Do you have any wishes- Kay? Tell me, what is it that you most desire in your life?"
(Wishmaker)
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[18:02] Katrin is used to being damn near the tallest thing in the room since coming down off the mountain. The Wishmaker dwarfs her and then some, and it's a strange sensation to not be looming over something else for a change. Albeit unintentionally.

"Huh. Heard a lot of titles," she starts, eyes flicking back over to the creature. "That takes the cake." The step makes her flinch and tense. Smoke swirls, blinding her periphery outside of the little circle of dirt.

But the voice, the words, they sound...pleasant. Unusually so.

"Oh, loads. I got lots of wishes, lots of dreams," Katrin proclaims, golden starlight reflected in her irises.

"I'd say...there's two that are pretty close. What I want most of all? I want to be the best artificer there ever was, is, or will be. I want to make things that'll make folks remember me when I'm gone. They'll be speakin' my name for centuries- nah,too small, millenia." There's a flash of a fanged grin that shows the shallow points of her teeth. Then it fades.

"After that though? Second? That's a lil' more...personal."
(Katrin)
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[18:06] "Ambitious goals. Do you possess the aptitude to reach them?"

Slowly, it leans forwards. Given its relative mass and height, it's easy to clear the little distance left between the two. Blackened eyes move to fixate upon Katrin's, locked and unblinking, unwavering.

It stares, simply and entirely. All encompassing, if one would let themselves be lost in its gaze.

"Many aspire to fame and greatness. Prowess in combat, glory in battle.. Or to master their craft, become a famed individual whose name will reside in textbooks for millenia to come. Could it. Be. You?"

An arm extends outwards, reaching towards the artificer.. And if she would let the Wishmaker touch her, she'd find their claws ice cold to the touch, but mostly gentle in its caress. A mother, pressing against their child, in a quiet embrace..

..Even as a single talon would mark a line across their face, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

"I smell the stars on you, Child. But why waste your time, wishing upon stars, when you could be wishing to something.."

The smoke swirls about, almost violently, for a moment, showcasing its face in its entirety, likely for the first time.

"Tangible?"
(Wishmaker)
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[18:20] "Me? Aptitude? 'Course I do! I've got the wits, I've got the know-how, I got the guts to dream instead of making cookie-cutter bullshit," she says, almost indignant at the question. But something about the stare, and the touch- the cold, somehow calming touch- keeps the fire in her belly from rising too high.

When was the last time she had felt so calm? So at peace? It had to have been...

Even as she feels the line of warm blood on her cheek she doesn't move with any urgency.

"Well. Thing about those tangible things? They ask a high price. Loyalty. Coin. It's always somethin'."

Words that might've been bitter become nearly a soft lament. In the face of that touch her guard lowers. Slowly.
(Katrin)
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[18:26] "Anyone worth having requires sacrifice. Be it menial. Be it material."

The clawed hand falls away from Katrin's face, and takes its place back at his side. The sudden motions cause the chains behind it to jingle horrendously, time and time again, making a racket of clinging metal.

Then, it picks itself back up. It had already gotten Kay close with a silver tongue, honeyed words- the real question, was what Wishmaker offering true? Surely, something like her goal should have been out of place for even a creature like it to offer?

That same hand raises upwards, enclosing around its face, around the metal at its mouth.

"The price I offer matches the results I give. I can rend you apart, and make you greater than the sum of your parts, just as you do to the items you get your hands upon.. And in return, it is simple, Child. All I ask for."

Its eyes have never left Katrin's, though they fade inky black, erasing even the pupil as it finishes speaking.

"Is everything.

Paradise, on this material plane, and you will be mine, and my Master's, when you arrive at the next."
(Wishmaker)
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[18:33] "Don't I know it," she grumbles. All things worth having took sweat, labor, pain...

Or, depending on your luck, being born into the right family line.

The hand falls away from her face, the cool and calming sensation going with it, and Katrin is treated to a clattering, awakening din of rattling metal chains. It does seem to stir her from her stupor. Some.

"...You're drivin' a hard bargain, Wishmaker. My people might not be what they used to be, but they've always been merchant folks.

You ask a real high price there. Pretty high, considerin' we just met. I don't even know if you can deliver, for that matter, and it sounds like you're already askin' for my...soul?"

The offer is tempting. No two ways about it, but she is hesitant to fully commit. Reckless, maybe, yet she still has the crafter's cunning and a well-won forked tongue of her own.

"I'd need more proof of what you can do to even consider something like this. And know about this rendin' me apart business- which sounds like it hurts. Your master to boot. Nothing to say for this being owned business."
(Katrin)
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[18:39] The Wishmaker is quiet for a moment, after Katrin's not quite a rejection. Slowly, it lifts a foot, clawed talons picking up from the dirt, just to take a singular, thundering step back. It's gaze hesitates on her, before twisting up towards the sky, almost as if it were suddenly uninterested, entirely, with the artificer.

"So goes the response. It is to be expected. The price is heavy, and those who take it are often at the end of their road."

Claw-like fingers continue to tap, idly against the metallic mask, the rasping sound echoing far into the dark forests. Slowly, one shoulder tugs upwards, causing the chain to drag along, and then the other shoulder repeats the process.

An idle stretch, before it pulls itself back into its default slouch, where Katrin had first seen it. Much smaller, much more like a drakanite.

But knowing what she knew, there was no mistake behind it- This was something else, entirely.

"..When you find yourself at the end of that road, when only a single step more would cast you into the void of damnation.. Perhaps you will see that damnation coming, and make a wish. And when you do, I will be there to grant it."

"Remember the Wishmaker, won't you...?"
(Wishmaker)
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[18:48] The artificer crosses her arms over her chest. Her moral compass was...not precisely a moral compass in the traditional sense. But her own soul? It was hard to replace.

Yet her mind does drift over the possibilities. What good does a soul do her, really? There's a lot of things she could do in exchange for it. All in exchange for subservience- not now, but later. The odds off life are not precisely in her favor either.

A sobering thing to consider.

She clenches her jaw and chews it over. Hard. Whatever this thing is, whether or not it can truly deliver on these promises, it does not seem anything to be trifled with. Katrin treads with caution.

"...I'll be sure to give your offer due consideration, mister Wishmaker. Can respect that much. One merchant of sorts to another."

Her eyes look up to the heavens, the distant pinpoints of light, so cold and ineffectual, then gives the creature a salute before turning to prepare and leave.
(Katrin)